


Welcome Home

by edokko



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9438134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edokko/pseuds/edokko
Summary: Arthur can't keep his eyes off of a handsome Frenchman that he meets at Feliciano's party.Part of the frukgiftexchange.





	

“Good morning London and an almost Merry Christmas to our listeners out there. We’ll start off with the local weather report, looks like it’ll be a damp and foggy day as usu-”

Arthur slammed down the alarm button so hard that it fell off of the bedside table with a loud noise. He considered himself a morning person usually, but 5am was an ungodly hour to wake up at.

Grumbling while wrapping himself up in the warm and comfortable down duvet he really didn’t want to get away from, he let out a small hiss as his feet touched the frigid wooden flooring of his flat and cursed the lack of central heating.

A warm and firm hand suddenly clasped him on the shoulder, and Arthur clenched his fists to defend himself from attack when he heard--

“Arthur, where do you think you’re doing with those precious blankets?” A voice said. It sounded incredibly sleepy, attractive, familiar, and….French.

In his hangover clouded mind, he’d completely forgotten that he’d brought back his boyfriend last night.

..and he also just remembered that he’d also invited said boyfriend to his family’s annual Christmas gathering, this time at his elder brother James’ house in Scotland. He let out an exasperated sigh.

Arthur plopped down onto the bed again begrudgingly, and put a small part of the blanket on top of Francis’ head.

“There, better?” he replied with a smirk.

“Not at all.” Said Francis in a muffled voice. He peeked out from underneath the blanket and stared intently at Arthur’s face. “Very funny Arthur, very funny…”

“You’re always so grumpy in the morning, Francis.”

“And you, my darling, are grumpy, always.” Francis gave Arthur some light kisses on one of right cheek and winked. “Also, do you ever try to trim those eyebrows? I swear they’re getting bushier every time I see you…” He reached up to touch Arthur’s face when his hand was slapped lightly back.

“ _Aiii!_ ” said Francis, feigning pain by pouting his lips. “How savage of you, Arthur!”

Arthur replied with a curt, “Oh just shut up and get ready, we’re leaving for the station in 20 minutes.”

  
\-------------------------------------

It all started at Feliciano’s party back in June.

The international student’s dorm was known for having the wildest parties, thanks to all the money pouring in from the school associations for “cross cultural events.” Everyone at university, particularly Arthur, knew it was the best place to get free booze and maybe even find someone to bring home for the night.

Feliciano was a gregarious Italian who was known for being both clumsy and endearing, and who knew absolutely _everyone_. Rumors were about that claimed he was pursuing a German mathematics student, but he’d yet to manifest at any of Feli’s parties. Other frequent attendees of his parties that Arthur knew was a boisterous American student called Alfred whom he’d seen (and frequently heard) in some of his physics classes, a Canadian named Matthew who was quiet, kind and a heavyweight drinker, and Kiku from Japan, who was shy but very open when drunk. Kiku had a bad habit of repetitively "confessing" to Arthur while under the influence of alcohol, and he'd repeated several times now that he’d drawn and sold something salacious called doujinshi in his younger years.

Arthur still didn’t understand what doujinshi were, even though he was sure he’d get another lecture from Kiku again tonight.

Out of politesse Arthur decided to come a little late to the party, getting himself ready for a long night by starting with a couple of beers at a pub near the dorm. Summer was finally beginning in London and the prospect of warm weather brought him such joy that he didn't notice he was getting drunk a little faster than usual.

Must be because of his no alcohol during exam period rule, he thought to himself as he downed another beer.

By the time he arrived at the dorm he could feel the music and the bass emanating from Feliciano’s room. The Italian liked to go over the top with his parties but he always managed to charm the police or neighbors each time, whoever was complaining about the noise.

Matthew answered the door, and smiled widely once he saw that it was Arthur.

"You're late as always. Party's just getting started, Alfred just dared a newcomer to a drinking contest." He said with a small sigh and smile. He stepped aside in a gesture of welcome.

Arthur stepped inside the dorm room, always in awe every time at how big it was for a student dorm. He headed straight for the kitchen, hoping that there would still be enough alcohol to satisfy his thirst for the night.

In the corner of the kitchen was a large well worn wooden table with multiple label-less bottles of varying colors, all alcohol. Splashes of liquid covered the table and Arthur scowled a bit, thinking of how much alcohol was going to waste.

After getting himself a cup of what he assumed was gin (at least it tasted like gin), Arthur walked over to the living room to see if he couldn’t find anyone he knew. A small smile made its way across his face once he’d found his friend, waiting around in his usual corner.

“Ah Kiku, you’re in your favorite spot again I see.” He took a swig from his cup as he greeted him.

“Oh hello, Arthur. Yes, well as you know it’s the place to people watch.” Kiku responded in a slightly excited voice. “We also have some newcomers today.” Kiku slightly moved his head in the direction of the sofa in the opposite corner of the living room, and Arthur’s eyes followed his movement.

On the left side of the sofa was Antonio, a Spaniard who was working as a chef in a Spanish restaurant in London. He was talking energetically to man with greyish white hair on the far right, though he looked very young. The grey haired man started laughing loudly, almost maniacally, and Arthur heard a loud _JA!_ before he started laughing again and drinking his beer.

Arthur’s eyes stopped on the man in the middle. He was definitely new, as Arthur would have remembered had he seen him before. The man had his legs crossed, wearing black trousers and black professional looking shoes. His hair was about shoulder length, wavy and golden, and it looked so effortlessly perfect that Arthur wanted to touch them to see if they were a silky as he imagined them to be. His face looked delicate, framed by a trimmed dark beard. The man wasn’t speaking but was listening intently to Antonio and the grey haired man speak, smiling softly and taking sips from his wine glass.

“Kiku.” Arthur tapped Kiku’s shoulder. “Who’s the man in the middle?”

“I think that’s Francis.” Kiku replied. “Antonio brought him to the party today, I think I heard them explaining to Feliciano that they were old high school classmates.” Kiku sipped on his drink. “I am not sure how they know Gilbert, but those three have been talking together for many hours.” Kiku looked up at Arthur and smiled.

Arthur downed his drink in one gulp. He couldn't help himself and kept staring and smiling at Francis, thinking about how nice it would be to feel the rough hairs of his beard on his skin....

After a few minutes of daydreaming and staring, he realized that Francis was looking and smiling back at him, and was moving to get up and over to what seemed to be his direction.

_Shit._

Arthur felt a chill down his spine as Francis got closer and closer to him. What was he going to say to try and explain why he was staring at him for so damn long? He could only think of one way to get out of this situation: grabbing another drink.

Arthur quickly darted away to the kitchen, nearly knocking over Kiku in the process. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks while he frantically searched for a bottle of alcohol that smelled strong, and he was desperately hoping that Francis didn’t follow h-

“Did I have something on my face?” A voice in a jesting tone asked.

Arthur turned around to see Francis staring at him intensely with a slight smile on his lips, and hoped his face didn’t give away how panicked he was.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond when Francis cut him off by asking,

“Do you mind moving over, actually? I’d like to get another glass of wine.”

“Oh, of course, sorry.” Arthur moved over slightly and stared down at his cup while he finished pouring a foul smelling liquid in his cup. He’d started to make his way back to the living room to escape and talk to Kiku when Francis’ voice called after him.

“What’s your name, if I may ask?” Arthur froze.

He didn’t turn around to face Francis, but said quietly, “I-it’s Arthur,” before striding away from the kitchen as fast as he could.

Francis smiled, and replied back to the empty space where Arthur had just stood, “Well, it’s nice to meet you then, Arthur.”

 

\-------------------------------------

  


Arthur felt like his head was going to split open. No, he was convinced it _had_ split open.

He groggily grabbed at his arms and legs from underneath the blanket, although he didn’t recognize it as his own. His clothes were still there, thankfully. He could feel his heartbeat pounding through his head and he desperately needed a glass of water.

He opened his eyes to look around the flat but he truly had no idea where he was. Expensive looking furniture, high glass windows, and a black pea coat was neatly folded on the chair in front of the desk across from him. He was going through each of his memories of last night (very little of which he could actually remember) to no avail.

A light knock on the door startled him awake.

“Good morning? Are you awake, Arthur?” Francis peeked out from behind the door.

“Yes! Uh yeah, I am.” Arthur barked back hoarsely. He ruffled his hair and tried to look as presentable as possible before Francis walked in, holding a tray.

Whatever he had cooked, it smelled delicious. Arthur heard his stomach grumbling and restrained himself from gulping everything down in one bite.

As Arthur put his hand down on the bed to help himself up, he felt something wet.

He looked down and realized he had drooled all over the bed...which was actually a very antique looking sofa.

He raised his eyebrows and Francis responded by asking him what was wrong.

“Erm….I think I drooled on the bed…”

Francis surveyed the damage while Arthur ate silently huddled in the blanket.

“It looks okay, I think. You do know this is a 17th century antique, right?” Francis said with a slightly judging look at Arthur.

“Uh….”

“It’s alright, in the worst case I can ask Ludwig to take a look at it. But be careful, please.” Francis said in a tone that made Arthur feel like a child.

Arthur decided it was now or never to ask him the question.

“Francis, did you and I...erm...it’s a bit strange to ask so frankly I know bu-”

“You mean if we slept together? No, we didn’t last night. Although you were _very very_ insistent.” Francis emphasized with a small laugh. “It was cute, in a way...”

“ _Cute_?” Arthur snapped back, which made Francis laugh harder.

“Well, you were very adorable when you were drunk.” Francis gave Arthur a light kiss on the forehead. “Shower is on the room in the hallway at the very end, I’ll be in the kitchen so take your time getting up.” Francis left the room and Arthur heard some clattering noises.

Arthur touched his forehead where Francis had just kissed him, and grinned wildly.

  
\-------------------------------------

 

And now here they were, 6 months later, catching a train at 6:30am to see Arthur’s brother for Christmas.

Arthur didn’t really know what to call their relationship, but he supposed it was the closest to dating that he’d ever gotten. He’d learned a lot about Francis: that he needed coffee in the morning or that he’d be terrible to deal with all day, that he liked his sweets extra sugary, and that he had just moved to London for museum work. Arthur wasn’t sure how much he’d revealed about himself (sober or otherwise) but he’d gotten used to Francis being around and had even caught himself missing him. He found himself often struggling to find the right words to convey how he felt about Francis.

After a long train ride through the countryside, they arrived in a small sleepy village where Arthur had once lived many years ago. He still came back occasionally in the summer, when the weather was nice. As they walked towards his brother’s house from the station, Arthur desperately hoped that his family wouldn’t be too unbearable for Francis.

Francis looked sleepy as Arthur knocked on the door of James’ house. He heard his brother’s heavy footsteps approach the door.

James opened it with such force that Arthur was nearly knocked over, but was luckily saved by a hug.

“James I can’t really bre-” Arthur managed to get out before he was hugged even tighter.

“It’s so good to see you Arthur!!” James was grinning from ear to ear. “And who’s your friend you’ve brought?”

“Oh, this is Francis. Francis, this is my brother, James.” Francis smiled back as he shook hands. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

They made their way inside the house, thankful to be away from the cold. Arthur brought Francis upstairs to the guest room while James yelled upstairs to Arthur that he’d start cooking.

“I’m on decorations duty this year so can you come help?” Arthur asked as he folded some sweaters he got from his suitcase and placed them on the shelf. Francis nodded and Arthur motioned for Francis to follow him to another room, where there was a large pile of Christmas lights and decorations awaiting them.

Arthur first started to tackle the dining room, placing small reindeer and Christmas tree decorations on the red table cloth. Francis meanwhile placed candles on the windowsills and placed the silverware on the table.

They slowly made their way across the house, Arthur humming with content as they went through each room methodically and efficiently. Maybe it wasn’t such a strange or bad idea to invite Francis over for Christmas after all…

They left the hardest project for last: the Christmas tree in the living room. Francis was put in charge of putting on the star, which proved to be difficult as they couldn’t agree to whether it was properly straight or not.

“Francis, it’s a _little more_ to the left, just maybe one or two inc-”

“Arthur it’s fine, it looks fine to me, okay? This is the 5th time you’ve asked me to move it and it looks the exact same as when I first put the star on. ” Francis replied, annoyed. He started putting the long string of Christmas lights diagonally across the tree, blocking Arthur so that he couldn’t finish putting on the baubles.

“Can you work on _that side_?” Arthur asked aggressively. “I can’t put the decorations on if you’re blocking me while you’r-”

Francis cut him off by imitating Arthur’s voice and responding with “Well then just _move one or two inches_ to the side and I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Arthur grumbled something under his breath and got back to work, while Francis looked at him smugly.

As Francis gingerly placed the last string of lights across the bottom row of branches, he yelled out “ _Finished_!” triumphantly and stepped back to take a look at the tree.

“Not so bad for my first non-French Christmas.” Francis said as Arthur joined him after putting on the last bauble. Arthur rolled his eyes at Francis.

“Not such bad work for a frog.” Arthur retorted back, and it was Francis’ turn to roll his eyes.

As Arthur made his way towards the door to leave the living room, he noticed something green hanging above the door.

“Who put mistletoe up here?” Arthur stopped and stared at the small bunch of leaves held together by red string.

“Isn’t mistletoe something you kiss underneath in England?” Francis asked.

Before Arthur could respond back, Francis crushed his lips onto Arthur’s for a long kiss.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Francis said after he pulled back.

Arthur smiled back, feeling warm. He finally knew what this feeling was that he felt around Francis: love.

“Merry Christmas to you, Francis.”

**Author's Note:**

> For courfelicious: happy holidays and sorry for the delay! I really like exploring fruk as they're just getting together, and I hope you enjoyed the fic :)


End file.
